"I fear, dear Marius, that either you or I have been led astray. The Legends of which you spoke claimed Showgull was a land of great Magick, perhaps even the very Wellspring of the first Magick, with a People whose blood runs with æthereal power. You know how serious I take my work, Marius: is this a jest to you? These are a barbarous People, who know little Writing and fewer Manners. They are hostile to the very Idea learned Magick. That anyone should call this a Nexus of magickal power is risible. No wonder so many Kingdoms have been eager to trade off this Place in their treaties."

Someone complained that orcs, in the campaigns he knew, were just cannon fodder -- there was nothing horrible, or terrifying, about them. This was the answer I gave. It proved a controversial one, and some may think it takes a stronger stomach to contemplate than they appreciate. This is your content warning: if you're easily revolted, I won't mind if you give this one a miss.

Many, perhaps most fantasy lands are monarchies, which can be ruled well when the monarch is a clever and able man or woman devoted to his or her people. But what happens when the monarch is ill, or is tyrannically cruel, or a young child, or is otherwise blatantly unfit to rule? How can he or she be dealt with without risking civil war as powerful nobles fight for the crown?

The most influential event in Atheus is the Year of the Exile. It set up the division of the world into east and west, the human's side and the barbarian's side, respectively. But how did it actually happen? How did one race manage the incredible feat of the exile of four other races?

Info

The Forest of Flesh

The party has found the source of the strange creatures roaming the countryside. The rift in this reality glows with a silver hue, rippling with the wind but never moving. They step through and are immediately assaulted with the scent of rotting meat, some have to muster all their strength not to vomit. Strange cries similar to the beasts the party had faced before can be heard in the distance. Looking around, they see they are in a forest of grey and red rather than the normal brown and green. The trees are sticky to the touch and writhe, perhaps to get away or perhaps as a warning.

The deeper the party goes, the more the forest seems to slither and move underfoot. The cries get closer and more numerous. Creatures lurk in the shadows, all the same color of their surroundings. Whatever the party came in here for, they had better do it fast.